Bastard
by Taykitty
Summary: Jon Snows thoughts just before he leaves to take the black. He thinks about what it is to be a bastard, who his mother might be and where his place in life is. Update! This story will no longer be a one shot, I will upload a second chapter once the series is finished about Jon's thoughts at that time and how they differ from the beginning.


**So this is my first Game of Thrones fanfic, which is pretty exciting. GoT is, I find, very hard to write, all the characters are so diverse and real. This is my attempt at portraying Jon Snow's thoughts on being a bastard.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

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Jon Snow. The name itself mocked him.

Snow.

The name that was given to all the bastards of the North.

He may have grown up in Winterfell. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon may be his Siblings. Lord Stark may even be his father, but Lady Stark was not his mother.

So he was forced to live right on the edge of everything. He lived in Winterfell's castle, but he was no lordling. He had brothers and sisters, but they were only half related. He grew up under the Stark banner, but he would never be a Stark.

It would probably be easier, if he weren't separated from the rest of Winterfell as well. Bastard he may be, but he was still the son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. He couldn't just spend his time in the town at the markets, in the stables, at the smithery or just mingling with the towns folk.

Some of the first words anyone ever spoke to him always seemed to be the same.

'Ah, you must be Ned Stark's bastard.'

Everyone loved to emphasise that word.

Bastard.

He didn't fit in with anyone, just stuck hopelessly somewhere in between. Not with the townsfolk nor his own family.

Sure his half siblings treated him the same, well, all but Sansa who was so very much like her lady mother. But there was always that point of difference. That rift between him and the others.

He sometimes hated Robb for it. Well, hate wasn't the right word, envied more like. Robb a true born son of Lord and Lady Stark. He would be the next Lord Stark of Winterfell (not that Jon ever wanted that really, but still, some recognition would be nice.) He was a more skilful swords-man. He was good at all his studies. He was handsome with Tully features and all the women, high and low born alike, fawned over him. He was all that Jon was not.

Jon supposed Arya was his closest sibling, but even then, when she put on her 'I couldn't care much less' attitude, Jon knew the truth of it. He could clearly remember the day that she realised she looked much more similar to Jon then her other siblings and had come to him in tears, scared that she too was a bastard.

Jon had comforted the poor girl and assured her that she was, in fact, a true born daughter of house Stark. But oh how it had cut him.

Would it really be so bad to be his full sibling.

Of course it would.

No one cares for bastards and even the young and wild girl can see it. That is why he vowed to never father a bastard himself.

But none of that was even the worst part.

No, the thing that truly tore Jon apart was the thought of his own mother. He didn't know a thing about her, and was beginning to resign to the fact that he very well may never.

That never stopped him from wondering, mind you. Was she high or low born? Did she know anything about him? Did she know where he was going? Had she loved his father? Had his father ever loved her? What did she look like? Where was she? Was she even alive?

The questions were endless and were constantly circling through his mind.

When he was younger he often dreamt of a young woman with dark long locks soft as silk sitting by a gently burning fire as she sang so very sweetly if snowflakes and blue roses. But try as he might he could never make out her face. Was she real, or just a figment of his imagination trying to fill the empty void in his heart.

Jon stared resolutely at his father threw his bedroom window. He had made a decision. He would ask his father about his mother on the ride today before they parted ways. He may never receive his answer, but he simply could not go to The Wall without at least trying.

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**So it's pretty short but I just thought that would be a good place to leave it, I don't want to go into the ride along Kings Road or the conversation with Ned because we all know how that went. So let me know what you think.**

**Much love!**


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